Hibachi, Shinto gates, winter-spring flowers, sword sharpener interview

The distinctive zig zag of an ume branch on a noren door curtain in Kyoto.

This post begins with a look at hibachi charcoal braziers, which used to keep traditional Japanese homes warm (or at least a small area). Then we delve into the symbolic powers of orange Shinto torii gates. The rest of the post covers winter to early spring flowering trees, and ends with an interview with a Japanese sword sharpener. Spring, the first days of February, are only a few weeks away! And come March it's high season again in Japan.

Hibachi charcoal braziers: Hibachis or charcoal braziers used to be the center piece for many traditional Japanese rooms in winter until a few decades ago. Used mainly for warmth, they were also used to heat water for tea or sake warming, and also to heat or cheer people sitting nearby. Hibachis are either made of glazed clay (usually the height of a normal Japanese table, and decorated in pleasing ways), or of wood, lined with metal (generally fitted with little drawers for tobacco, eyeglasses, paper, and other things used by the head of the household). Edo-period naga-hibachi, essentially a copper-lined, rectangular wooden chest, are probably the most prized hibachi style. They are still quite easy to find in antique shops. Naga-hibachi were often common to the front room of homes that doubled as shops. The place before the drawers was reserved for the father, since from this position he could receive guests or customers and have his necessary sundries at hand. (Smaller, more portable ceramic hibachis were generally used in other rooms.) There are two naga-hibachi styles: 1) the daiwa-hibachi, which has a thick extended wooden lip around the top, common to the Kyoto-Osaka area; 2) The Edo-hibachi, with sides extending straight down, used in the Edo (Tokyo) region. Today, hibachis are popular among nearly everyone interested in Japanese antiques. The wooden one make handsome side tables, and the porcelain hibachis serve perfectly as planters for perhaps one of your bamboo plants. And in winter, well . . .

Torii Shinto gates: Torii are the large gateways marking the entrances to Shinto shrines. 'Torii' literally means 'bird perch' and it could be that they represent the perches of white chickens that used to be sacrificed at shrines. Though such sacrifices no longer take place, torii serve to remind visitors that they are passing from the mundane world into the spiritual. As you walk around town, you may notice miniature torii fixed on the bottom of walls. They serve a diffident purpose: can you guess what?

Torii are usually made of wood, but after the Kamakura Period (1185-1331) other materials such as metal or stone were brought into use. There are more than twenty different styles of torii, many of which are named after the shrines with which they are associated. The simplest kind is the Ise torii, made from two posts connected by a bar called a nuki and a straight bar called a kasagi across the top. In the Hachiman torii, named after the Shinto diety who protects warriors, the kasagi is curved and rests on a beam called a shimaki. In the Inari torii, the two are connected in the center by a gakusa on which a sign, or gaku, bearing the name of the shrine is normally fastened. The most common type, the Myojin torii, incorporates all of these features.

Some shrines encourage local devotees and businesses to make offerings of torii which are often crowded together to form corridors. Fushimi Inari Shrine in the southeast of Kyoto has spectacular avenues of over 10,000 torii winding for about five kilometers over the hills behind the shrine. I am told that these torii cost upwards of $1,000 each, but pilgrims can buy miniature ones for between Yen 2,000 and Yen 10,000 to leave at shrines along the way.

Sometimes thick ropes (shimenawa), symbolizing purity, are hung on torii. In the Shinto religion, death is considered unclean and a person who has lost a close relative isn't supposed to walk under a torii until the next year.

As for those miniature torii on walls: they aren't there to mark a sacred spot, as you might think, but are put there to discourage people from urinating on the walls in the belief that no one would dare defile such a sacred object.

The rest of this post continues with:

Winter-spring flower transitions
An interview with Yoshida Mitsuo, sword sharpener

Content by Ian Martin Ropke, owner of Your Japan Private Tours (est. 1990). I have been planning, designing, and making custom Japan private tours on all five Japanese islands since the early 1990s. I work closely with Japan private tour clients and have worked for all kinds of families, companies, and individuals since 1990. Clients find me mostly via organic search, and I advertise my custom Japan private tours & travel services on www.japan-guide.com, which has the best all-Japan English content & maps in Japan! If you are going to Japan and you understand the advantages of private travel, consider my services for your next trip. And thank you for reading my content. I, Ian Martin Ropke (unique on Google Search), am also a serious nonfiction and fiction writer, a startup founder (NexussPlus.com), and a spiritual wood sculptor. Learn more!

Winter & spring flowers on the horizon

Camellia trees with their evergreen leaves can be found in Kyoto, in their natural state (yabutsubaki), cascading red flowers all around them from mid December to late March. They are also an extremely popular ornamental (a cross between the yabutsubaki and the yukitsubaki variety). Ornamental cultivation started in the Edo period (1600-1868), and over 200 hybrid varieties were on record by 1695, in colors ranging from white to pink and dark red.

The yabutsubaki grows to height of about 10 meters, and has very smooth gray-brown bark. The leaves are glossy, pointed at the end and alternate along the branch from side to side. The flowers are usually a rich red, with the petals tightly enfolded at the base. Sazanka (another common variety of camellia) is much like the yabutsubaki, except that the flowers are generally white in nature, though in ornamentals the blossoms are often red. Sazanaka leaves are also shiny and evergreen, but are elliptical with serrated edges. The petals are also more open and not tightly attached to each other at the base of the flower.

Camellia wood is very hard and since ancient times has been very popular for making tool handles. The oil, pressed from the tree’s round seeds, was widely used for cooking and as hair oil (still considered the finest natural oil).

In February and March tsubaki can be best seen at Kyoto's Manshu-in Temple, at Sanzen-in Temple in Ohara and at Honen-in Temple.

Feb. ume plum blossoms & first picnics of the year!

Plum trees are not native to Japan. The cherry tree is native to both Japan and China. Plum trees arrived in Japan from China in the 8th century. These trees are believed to have to power to ward off danger. On many old Japanese plots of land, in the city and in the countryside, you will find plum trees planted in the northeast corner, known as the demon’s gate from where danger and evil are believed to enter. Many Japanese family crests use the protective plum blossom their designs. Ume boshi, pickled sour plums, are also believed to keep danger away, when eaten. But most of all, plum blossoms herald spring and offer the perfect occasion for the year’s first picnic, a sure sign that cherry blossoms and the first warm days of summer can’t be far away.

Kitano Tenmangu Shrines: Tenmangu Shrines are famous for ume plum blossoms. The mother shrine, Kyoto's Kitano Tenmangu Grand Shrine, is probably the best ume plum blossom shrine in Japan. It is home to nearly 2,000 plum trees. In fact, the shrine is synonymous with plum blossoms, which are a prominent decorative motif in its lanterns, tiles, and woodwork. From about February 10 to the end of March, the plum orchard southwest of the main shrine is open for public viewing. Tenjin-san Flea Market and Plum Viewing Festival on the 25th: This very popular event, on the 25th of the month, started as a ceremony of prayer for the repose of the soul of the 9th century scholar, Sugawara Michizane, a victim of court intrigues who died in exile on this day and is now enshrined here. The highlight of the Baika-sai (Plum Festival) is an outdoor tea ceremony, performed by the geisha of nearby Kamishichiken. A bowl of whipped green tea with a sweet costs Yen 1,500. Prayers said at 10:00, tea ceremony held 10:00 to 15:00. Located at the west end of Imadegawa. Tel: 461-0005.

The Old Imperial Palace: Another favorite spot for plum viewing is the Old Imperial Palace. There are plum groves southwest of the inner palace. From the moment the two hundred trees begin to blossom, people can be found sitting beneath the trees sharing food and sake. A real treat. Best viewing from the end of Feb. to the first week of March. Located in the heart of the city just north of the central downtown area.

Zuishin-in: After Kitano Tenmangu, this temple is the most famous in Kyoto for its plum trees. Located in Yamashina, this temple also has a particularly fine garden featuring a wide expanse of moss, a pond and a stunning arrangement of rocks. The temple is open daily from Feb., 28th, 9:00-16:00. Located a 5-min walk east of Ono Stn on the Tozai subway line. Tel: 571-0025.

Kanshu-ji: The famous old plum here was transplanted from the Imperial Palace. It is best viewed during February. Kanshu-ji’s garden has a wide perspective much like a small park (the pond alone is 200 meters long); in the background looms Mt. Daigo. Located west of Ono Stn on the Tozai subway line. Tel: 571-0048.

After ume plums come momo peach flowers

The peach (momo) tree, its exquisite flowers, and its delicious fruit are all symbolic of Japan. For many, unfortunately, the tree is very difficult to distinugish from the plum (ume), which is much more common.

The flowers of the peach tree symbolize the happiness of marriage and the feminine traits of gentility, composure and tranquility. Since ancient times, the flower has been placed on the highest level of the Hina Matsuri doll display (see page 3). Peach blossoms can be seen in all their splendor on the west side of the Kyoto Imperial Palace grounds sometime in March (usually later than earlier, but the effects of global warming certainly have tended to move things up a bit). A relaxing afternoon under the fine trees in this orchard is ideal for a picnic on a warm day. Hokyo-ji Temple (on Teranouchi, a few meters east of Horikawa) also has some splendid specimens. This temple is also closely connected with Hina Matsuri. Further out of town, peach blossoms can be best admired in Tango Town’s Tokumitsu Takayama Danchi, which holds a peach flower viewing festival in the middle of April (this area is on the Japan Sea, which is much colder, so things bloom somewhat later than in Kyoto City).

The momo or peach itself is also a Japanese symbol. In the realm of the erotic or the gay entertainment quarters of old (and present), the fruit is viewed as a symbol of the female buttocks and the pleasures of the flesh in general. In the realm of the fairytale, the momo plays a special role as the place from which Momotaro (the super child) born from. Historically, “Peach Mountain” or Momoyama was the name of the castle, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, the pleasure-loving general gave to his southern Kyoto castle and the area around it. A whole historical period, the Momoyama period (1580-1600), considered to be one of Japan’s mostly colorful and artistically original, is named after this castle.

An interview with Yoshida Mitsuo, sword sharpener

This talk with Yoshida Mitsuo took place in 1987, in Kyoto. In Japan there might be about 20 professional sword sharpeners and their clients are almost always sword collectors or marital artists using real swords. Forty-two year-old (in 1987) Yoshida Mitsuo is one of them. Mr. Yoshida came to the profession late. He was already twenty-five years old when a sword-maker acquaintance introduced him to Ando Saishun, at whose Fushimi studio he was to serve a five-year apprenticeship. Unlike most apprentices, the apprentice sword-sharpener, provided he exercises a certain degree of caution, is permitted to work on the real thing right from the start.

When asked what qualities characterize a good blade, Mr. Yoshida produced a sword, skillfully withdrew it from its scabbard, and turned the lethal-looking blade at different angles to the light to reveal the texture and grain of the metal. He explained that a fine blade can be recognized by its color, balance, shape, and cutting-edge, adding that if a couple of swords are compared, even an untrained eye can distinguish a good blade from an ordinary one.

I wondered if it was always easy to tell the real thing from a copy. Mr. Yoshida assured me that careful inspection of the signature of the maker, engraved into the part of the sword which usually lies hidden in the hilt, will reveal conclusively whether or not a sword is authentic. Unlike its Western counterpart, the Japanese sword is forged in layers, which makes it very strong. A soft iron core is enveloped in a hard outer skin of steel which is forged and reforged many times. This process not only gets rid of any impurities in the metal, but produces a distinctive pattern on the surface of the blade.

For Mr. Yoshida, uncovering this intrinsic pattern, distinct to every sword, is one of the main joys of sword-sharpening. The most famous swords in Japan are known as meito, or named swords. Unfortunately, these days there are not many left in Kyoto, so Mr. Yoshida rarely has the opportunity to sharpen them.

Most of Japan's meito, along with several hundred sword-sharpeners, including some who are Living National Treasures, live in Tokyo where most of the collectors are.

However, in the Muromachi (1333-1576) and Momoyama (1576-1603) periods, the Hon'ami family of famous sword appraisers and sharpeners was based in Kyoto. Calligrapher and potter Hon'ami Koetsu's father sharpened swords for a living. Although Tokyo is now the center of the sword industry, there are apparently still craftspeople in Kyoto who re-lacquer saya (scabbards) and make tsuba (sword-guards).

Just who are Mr. Yoshida's customers? Most of them are males over forty years old who collect swords as a hobby. Other customers are people who practice swordsmanship, or iai-nuki. Even though they don't always use the swords, Mr. Yoshida pointed out that it is impossible to practice correctly with a sword that hasn't been sharpened. "If a sword is blunt, you don't have to be careful about the way in which you take it in and out of its scabbard", he explained. He went on to say that, lacking the opportunity to try out their swords in battle, iai-nuki enthusiasts practice on 'dummies' made from lengths of straw bound around a central core (or 'backbone') of bamboo. These are similar to the human body in terms of their resistance to the blade. (Testing blades on humans, usually criminals, was once de rigeur. Many swords bear such gruesome inscriptions as, "cut through three bodies", or "tested many times on one body".)

The sharpening process is so laborious and time-consuming that Mr. Yoshida can't sharpen more than fifty swords a year. He produced a kaiken, a small dagger-like sword which is still traditionally included in a bride's trousseau. (The idea being that once a girl has committed herself to marriage there is no turning back, and suicide would be better that admitting defeat!) He explained that he sometimes has the opportunity to sharpen kaiken, and that they don't take as long to sharpen as the slung swords known as tachi, or the long straight-bladed katana. If the swords are not all full-length ones, he can usually manage to do about four a month.

A working day is relatively short. "It's not a good idea to continue to work when you're tired or when you don't fell like it, as you can do a lot of damage which only has to be put right again later on", Mr. Yoshida told me. "The work requires a lot of concentration, so I find it difficult to work for more than six hours a day." Looking down at Mr. Yoshida's bare feet, I asked if he didn't find it difficult to sit for long periods in the unheated workshop. He admitted that he sometimes finds it hard to get started, especially during the winter months. He added, however, that only the first hour is difficult. "The work requires a lot of physical energy, so after an hour or so I begin to work up a sweat. Although the water I use to rinse off the blade starts off stone-cold, it doesn't take long before the friction from stone rubbing against metal has steam rising from it."

Mr. Yoshida showed me the tools of his trade, the to-ishi; or sharpening stones. Starting with the coarse iyoto stone, he works his way through seven or eight separate grades to the finest one. "It's impossible not to leave some marks when you use a large stone, so at the final stage I rub the blade with jizuya--flakes broken off the least abrasive stone--and work directly with my hands. This gets rid of any marks that the sharpening stones might have left behind. During the final stages, I can't open the window in case dust enters and marks the blade, and I have to be very careful about using clean rinsing water." His plans for the future? As long as there are swords to be sharpened, Mr. Yoshida will continue to sharpen them.

Winter-spring flower transitions
An interview with Yoshida Mitsuo, sword sharpener